


Trapped inside

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: A darkness has come to consume one of the team





	Trapped inside

Their latest rift find had taken them to the outskirts of the old docks on a cold autumn morning.

It was about the same size and shape as a lunchbox, but metal. It was blackened on the outside, like it had been scorched in a fire, or maybe it had burned up on reentry when it had fallen through the rift.

Jack examined the box closely, noticing the deceptive weight of the thing.

'It must be made of some sort of super dense alloy,' he commented, hefting it up and down slightly.

'What do you think it is?' Gwen asked.

'A containment unit probably,' he replied, holding it aloft and closer to his face. 'It's damaged though,' he said, referring to the hole in its side, and peering into it. The hole gaped outwards like it had been torn open, or maybe exploded outwards.

'Maybe it was damaged when it felt through the rift,' Tosh added, 'Can you see anything inside?'

'Maybe,' he agreed, referring to the damage. 'It's pitch black inside. I suspect whatever was inside has long since escaped.'

'We can test it for residual traces back at the hub,' Tosh suggested. 'Maybe we can figure out what was in there and whether it's still here.'

'Might've been damaged while it was still stuck in the rift. Might not have made it to Earth,' Gwen offered.

'It's possible, but let's check it out just in case.'

The team began packing away their things into backpacks and handbags. Ianto returned from the SUV with a plastic containment bag and held it open whilst Jack slid the box inside.

'Ah!' he cried out.

'What is it?'

'Nothing,' Jack replied, 'just caught my hand on the sharp edge of the hole.'

The cut was about three quarters of an inch long on Jack's palm near his thumb, running parallel to his life line. Ianto pulled out his handkerchief and proffered it to Jack who wrapped it around his hand to staunch the bleeding.

'You know we have real medical supplies in the SUV for that, don't you?' Owen muttered. 'I'll want to have a look at that when we get back.'

'This is better,' Jack joked. 'Besides, it'll be healed before then. Good as new.'

'Suit yourself. Don't know what you need a doctor for, some days,' he grumbled.

Back at the hub, the team settled into their usual routine. Tosh was already extracting the box from its bag and scanning it with various devices, whilst Owen ran a long tipped swab inside the gaping hole, and several more around the edges of the hole and the outer surface.

Jack was busying himself in his office, returning a few calls that he'd meant to do earlier that morning. The smell of coffee was pervading the hub as Ianto stood in the small kitchenette brewing everyone's favourite beverage.

As Jack placed the phone back on the receiver, he absently pulled off the makeshift bandage from his hand and tossed it in the bin. The cut on his hand was completely healed over as expected, only a small dark line left now. The delectable smell of rich, bitter coffee was far more interesting, as was the man making it. Had it not been for those distracting thoughts, he might have noticed that the handkerchief was not stained a dark red colour, but rather was completely black where it had pressed against his wound.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. The hub seemed colder than usual so Jack kept his coat on as he worked in his office. He was unaware of the small line of the cut on his hand snaking further down his wrist, and up along his arm whilst he read reports, drank coffee and sent emails.

At five o'clock he sent everyone home for the day. Ianto lingered until six, using the excuse that he was having dinner with his sister in town, and that there was no point going home first. Eventually he too left and Jack continued his vigil alone.

Ianto hadn't intended on returning to the hub that night, actually looking forward to a night in a real bed, but things had not gone as he'd planned.

He was getting better at having a regular schedule for seeing his sister and her family, but that didn't mean that it always went down the way he hoped. Rhiannon was fiery at the best of times, where Ianto was placating. Even so, when they argued, it went both ways. He couldn't even remember what it was that had started it now. One second they were enjoying their meals, and the next they were arguing loudly across the table at one another. Maybe he should have just bitten the bullet and taken Jack to dinner with them. Wasn't that what Rhi was complaining about? He had a mystery boyfriend she wasn't allowed to meet?

In any case, the fight was over and they'd finished dinner. Rhi had seemingly gotten it off her chest and had moved on. Ianto on the other hand, had been left stewing in his own thoughts. He didn't feel like going back to his flat anymore, left with only the thoughts of what he might have said in his own defense. No, he wanted to go straight back to the hub and shag the living daylights out of Jack so that he could forget all about dinner.

He strolled through the cog wheel door, noting the pile of detritus under Owen's desk, and stopping to pick it up and place it in the bin, just inches away.

'Jack!' He called out, surprised that he hadn't already been greeted by now. No response.

'If he's decided to go out and stand on some bloody roof tonight,' Ianto muttered to himself, walking over to Jack's office. He caught sight of Jack at his desk, head resting in his arms and facing away from him.

'Sleeping on the job? What would the boss say?' Ianto joked as he approached.

He noticed some strange scrawl on Jack's right hand, and as he came to stand right in front of him, he was shocked to see it covering his face as well. It was as if someone had completely tattooed his hands and face, although it wasn't like any tattoo Ianto had ever seen. It was blacker than any tattoo ink, more like someone had attacked him with a permanent marker. His fingernails were also black, like some goth had painted them.

'Jack,' Ianto shook his shoulder, trying to wake him, but he didn't move. 'Jack!' He shook harder, and quickly felt for a pulse, noticing that the markings ran down his neck and into his shirt collar as well.

Ianto fumbled for his phone and hit the speed dial for Owen. Slightly panicked, he tried to follow Owen's instructions whilst he rushed to the hub. Jack was breathing but unconscious. That was a good thing. Ianto struggled to explain the weird rash to Owen, being told not to touch it in case it was contagious, or to use gloves if he absolutely had to.

Owen arrived shortly after and they pulled Jack from his chair and laid him on the floor. Owen began examining him. As he unbuttoned Jack's shirt, he discovered that the rash had spread there too. In fact, when they had undressed him completely, there wasn't an inch of his skin that wasn't covered.

It was disturbing and shocking, his usual caramel coloured skin now almost entirely black. It was unlike anything they'd ever seen before. It was as if someone had doodled all over his body, but it was intricate and detailed, the lines of scrawl densely packed together, as if fighting for dominance, barely leaving room for any of the skin underneath it. You couldn't call it decorative or pretty, rather the lines twisted around and in on themselves, like vines covered in thorns. The whole display seemed to exude an angry malevolence. The satanic markings were everywhere, even up past his hairline, the tempestuous scrawls continued right across his scalp.

He'd been unconscious and immobile the entire time they'd been there, but suddenly his eyes flew open. They both recoiled as his eyelids revealed that his eyeballs were nothing more than black pools of ink in their sockets. He began thrashing and snarling like a wild animal, revealing his tongue which was also totally black.

'Hold him down!' Owen yelled, already trying to place weight on his shoulders, whilst Ianto held down his bucking hips and legs. 

'I need to get him sedated,' Owen said. 'Keep him here until I get back.'

Ianto struggled against Jack's violent flailing, straddled on top of him with as much weight and force as he could manage. He was incredibly strong, stronger than Ianto had ever known. He was sure he was about to be thrown off, and what happened then would be anyone's guess. Luckily Owen had returned and was injecting Jack with a sedative. Jack continued to struggle underneath them, becoming even more aggressive.

'It's not working!' Ianto strained to get the words out between breaths.

Owen tried again and this time Jack's exertions seems to wane slowly until he finally went slack.

'Bloody hell,' Owen uttered as Ianto slid off of Jack's body, exhausted from his efforts. 'That was enough tranquiliser to knock out an elephant.'

'Did you see his eyes?' Ianto asked fearfully.

Owen leaned over and pulled up a lid with his gloved hand. It was glassy and looked like it was made of solid black onyx.

'We should get him downstairs and restrained before that wears off,' Owen suggested. 'God knows how long it might last.'

With effort they managed to carry Jack's body down to the infirmary and set him up in a bed with thick leather restraints on his ankles, wrists, torso and neck. He looked awful, lying there amongst the white sheets and white gown, covered in angry black markings.

Owen took blood samples, both of them equally alarmed that the liquid pouring into the vial was also black as night. Owen then took samples from the pair of them, alert to the fact that they all might be exposed to whatever ailed Jack, whilst Ianto called Gwen and Tosh for them to come to the hub immediately and be tested as well.

An hour later, Owen had cleared them all of any infection. Whatever it was, it was isolated to Jack.

Gwen and Ianto reviewed their CCTV footage, whilst Owen and Tosh continued their analysis of Jack's test results. They watched Jack potter about the hub from one camera to another all night, without event. He worked for a while, made tea, checked on the weevils downstairs, then returned to his office. Nothing of consequence until he slumped forward on his desk, and then the twisted patterns slowly crept up his face and along his hands. He had no idea what was happening to him because he was already unconscious.

'It's that box,' Owen declared, as the rest of them had mulled around Tosh's desk, idly sipping coffee that none of them felt like drinking. He switched around the tablet he was carrying and showed them a photo of Jack's hand. At first none of them could understand what he was showing them, trying to discern meaning from the designs that now covered it. But there was one line that looked angrier and more pronounced, blacker than the others, if that were at all possible.

'He cut his hand,' Ianto stated. 'You think the box made him sick?'

'Or whatever was inside the box, more likely.'

'I thought it was empty. The seal was broken.'

Owen picked up the box, now back in its plastic bag. 'How heavy would you say this was Tosh?'

'We measured it at just over a pound.'

'And Jack reckoned it was heavy. Last I checked, a pound doesn't qualify as heavy.'

'What if it wasn't empty, then? What if there was something in there just waiting for a way out?' Gwen suggested.

'And when Jack cut his hand, it found a way inside?' Ianto added.

'Makes sense.'

'So how do we get it out of him? Whatever "it" is?'

'I don't know,' Owen replied, 'But whatever it is, there must be a way. Someone must have put it in that box for a reason, and I'm guessing it was because it was bad news.'

Hours later, they were no closer to discovering exactly what had been trapped inside the containment unit, or how to cure Jack. Even running traces of it through a Shadow Proclamation database, yielded no results. Even the most well versed organisation in the known universe had never seen the likes of it.

Ianto made his way down to the infirmary to sit with Jack for a while. Owen had confirmed that it didn't appear to be contagious, at least not as far as being able to touch Jack.

He settled down next to him and just watched him for a while. It was still quite confronting and unsettling seeing his entire body covered in thorny black designs. The more he looked at them, the more they seemed to swirl and change. They weren't of course, but the patterns were so overly complex that they gave the illusion of movement, and made him feel confused and disoriented if he stared at them too long.

He reached out and took Jack's hand in his own. It felt so cold, like he was already dead. The monitors said otherwise, that he was breathing easily, pulse and blood pressure normal.

He placed his other hand underneath, sandwiching Jack's between his own in an attempt to warm it up. He stared at Jack's sleeping face, still under heavy sedation, and didn't notice that the markings on his hand had begun to fade. It was only a bit later as he looked down, beginning to stroke the top of his hand with his thumb that he saw Jack's hand almost completely devoid of markings. He retracted his hands and saw the clear, unblemished flesh, the furious spiderweb of blackness commencing again at his wrist. He bolted upright and ran from the room in search of Owen.

When the pair of them returned, Jack was just as he'd been before. Worse, the markings that had disappeared from his hand had returned full force.

'They were gone, I swear,' Ianto proclaimed.

Owen went through his usual series of examinations but couldn't find any change to Jack's condition.

'Maybe you're just tired, mate. People see weird things when they're tired and under a lot of stress.'

'I'm not tired and I'm not stressed,' he argued, even though he knew Owen was right on both counts. 'I know what I saw.'

'I'm not saying you're lying,' Owen countered, 'but look at him.' Owen sighed. He was tired too. 'If you're not going to go and get some rest, then just keep an eye on him. Let me know if it happens again.'

Ianto conceded that this was as close as he was going to get to Owen believing what he'd seen.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he confirmed.

'No surprises there.' And with that, Owen got up and left.

Ianto resumed his vigil. He traced a finger around one of the designs on Jack's forearm, still cold. He wanted so much for Jack to wake up and be okay. After a few minutes of idle circles around the same spot he noticed the markings changed again. This time they weren't so much fading as they were retreating from his touch. As soon as his fingers left Jack's skin, they tangled back around the spot of clear skin, resuming their own position.

Stunned, he tried again, this time brushing Jack's cheek. Just like before, the lines seemed to recoil from his touch, leaving the affected patch behind. It seemed to fear his tender touches.

Emboldened by this development, rather than calling for Owen, he leaned over the bed, cupping Jack's face with a warm hand, placing his lips on Jack's. Perhaps if he could just clear the patterns from Jack's face, he might wake up.

He kissed Jack long and deep. When he looked down, not only were the markings writhing away from his face and neck, but they were fading from his hands also. His fingernails were returning to their usual pink colour and the gnarled patterns were withdrawing up his arms. As they did, he felt a strange sensation. It was like a black bile rising up Jack's throat and pouring into his. It was like ice flowing through his veins, making him shiver involuntarily. He didn't care. If whatever it was, was leaving Jack's body and going into his, then that was all that mattered. He continued to kiss Jack, pouring as much love as possible into the act, as the blackness continued its ascent up Jack's torso and out of his body. The blackness that had pooled in his eyes began to drain away, eyes flashing open and returning them to their crystal blue depths before his eyelids slipped shut again. Ianto saw the last remnants of the inky blackness twisting upward along Jack's throat, like wild ivy, before flowing up and out of his mouth, his tongue once more becoming a deep shade of rose and his body fully restored.

Ianto backed away, feeling the blackness rise up inside him, swirling around in his stomach with a cold fury and hatred, but he barely noticed it, simply glad that Jack was now free of it. It was his last heart-felt thought before he collapsed to the ground.

Owen had returned to the infirmary some time later. Ostensibly to check on Jack, but also to force Ianto to go and get some proper rest. So it was a shock when he found the young man lying helpless on the ground, and Jack still in bed, but devoid of any black markings and resting peacefully.

Ianto was curled over on his side, his head enveloped in a pool of black liquid that surrounded him. At first Owen thought he must have cracked his skull and bled out, until he checked and found his pulse beating steadily. He managed to lift Ianto's head away from the inky stain, which looked like it had spilled from his mouth, but he couldn't find any traces of it when he inspected his mouth and face. Whatever had happened was a complete mystery.

Whilst he was still in the process of checking him over he heard Ianto groan and come to.

'Ianto, can you hear me, mate?'

He seemed to disregard the question with a hazy expression. 'Is it gone?'

'Is what gone?'

'The hate.'

Owen returned his confused look with one of his own. What was he talking about?

Ianto turned his head and saw the black goo on the floor next to him. He immediately reacted against it, pushing away and scrambling back across the floor as far as possible, with a speed that caught Owen by surprise.

'Get a container and the vacuum extractor,' he commanded with some authority.

Owen wasn't about to argue. A few minutes later, they had the venomous liquid contained in a lead lined box, not dissimilar to the one that they'd uncovered yesterday.

'Now, are you going to tell me what the bloody hell happened?' Owen barked, all the while still trying to check Ianto over for injury.

'It didn't like being touched. When I touched Jack, it receded.'

Owen accepted Ianto's explanation on face value until he could properly ascertain that he hadn't done something incredibly stupid and infected himself. He ran tests on both of them and they both came back clean.

Whilst Owen's tests were still being analysed, Jack woke up. He was interrogated by Owen as to what had happened, and the rest of the team had rejoined them.

'I don't remember much,' he confessed. 'I felt like I was in a dream, or maybe a nightmare. I felt so cold and full of fury and hate. I dreamt of all the horrible things I've done, and more that I hadn't done. There was so much torture and pain. I was so angry and filled full of poisonous hate that I didn't know what to do with it all. I wanted to kill people but there weren't any left, I'd already killed them all.'

Jack was visibly upset by his recollections and Ianto's hand drifted across to ensnare his, both of them back to their usual warmth.

'Then it all went away, and I woke up.'

'You're telling me Teaboy here snogged you back to health?'

'Seems that way,' he said, buttoning up his shirt, redressing unashamedly in front of them.

They'd all now seen the CCTV from the infirmary that confirmed what had happened. Once the bile had left Jack's body, it had entered Ianto's. Then, just as quickly, he'd collapsed, and the bile came pouring back out of his mouth and onto the floor beneath him.

'So we're saying that thing is what, liquid hate?' Gwen asked.

'A distilled form of sentient emotion. Very powerful, and also very dangerous. Imagine what just one drop of that could do to affect an entire population.'

'So how come when Ianto sucked it out of you he didn't go all crazy town and tattooed like you did?'

'I suspect,' Jack said, wrapping an arm around Ianto's waist as he came to stand next to him, 'that Ianto's overriding emotions at the time were to save me at any cost. You saw how it reacted to touch alone. Imagine what it must have done inside someone feeling like that. It couldn't survive. I guess you could say it was killed by love.' He squeezed Ianto harder against him.

Ianto blushed furiously. He felt embarrassed that Jack could condense it down to so simple a thing as love. Tosh and Gwen just beamed at him, whilst Owen rolled his eyes.

'Now I think I'm going to be sick all over the floor.'

'Please don't,' Ianto implored.

'Well, seeing as how all's well that ends well,' Jack began, 'why don't you all head home and get a proper nights sleep.'

'No argument from me,' Gwen smiled as they began shuffling out of the room. Ianto made to follow them, but Jack's hands around his hips stopped him.

'That was some kiss, Mr Jones,' Jack said, reliving the memory of the view from the CCTV footage, and wishing he'd been conscious to enjoy it.

Ianto blushed again. 'Just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.'

'I don't doubt it, but perhaps I should return the favour.'

'Perhaps you should,' Ianto replied coyly.

'And perhaps,' Jack continued, pulling Ianto even closer, 'you might try that one on me again sometime? Not sure I got the full benefit last time around.'

'I think that can be arranged.'

Jack pulled back for a moment. 'By the way, how was dinner with you sister?'

'Just shut up and kiss me,' he replied.


End file.
